


The Singer at the Green Door

by bornforwar_archivist



Category: Xena: Warrior Princess
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-31
Updated: 2006-12-31
Packaged: 2020-03-13 05:18:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18934249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bornforwar_archivist/pseuds/bornforwar_archivist
Summary: By CarlyA guy who cares for nothing meets an incredible woman.





	The Singer at the Green Door

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Delenn, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Born For War](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Born_For_War), which closed in 2015. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in March 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Born For War collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bornforwar).

I found myself one Tuesday standing in an empty shelter by the side of a long, mean street. A cold wind had just risen and it was beginning to rain. I wondered why it always happened to be raining on the few occasions I had to catch a cab.

 

It wasn’t one of the better parts of town. Looking around I found only boarded-up factories, houses whose yards consisted of weeds and broken cars, and the kind of shops that held only a faded “for lease” sign in the window. Of course the address I wanted had to be one of those shops. It had probably held ten different businesses in the time since I’d got my information, all of them equally sordid and uninteresting.

 

It wasn’t just the stores that were empty. The whole place seemed to have been vacated, as though some joker had come along and engineered a bogus evacuation. I had barely seen a soul since my cab had dropped me in the wrong street, three blocks from where I’d wanted to go. I’d dashed under the cover of the nearest shop awning, dripping and cursing the rain; and then, of course, realised the driver’s mistake. But he was long gone by then.

 

A car swished by, sending up a spray of water which made me leap back from the gutter. I imagined the driver laughing; maybe he’d seen me, with my long tailored coat, my leather boots and carefully trimmed beard, and decided to make me fit in a little better with my environment. Damp, unkempt, and disreputable. My mouth twitched a little; I didn’t mind the last adjective at all.

 

I slipped off my coat, and shook the water from it, then ran my fingers through my damp hair, made even darker by the rain. I’d never banked on my reputation for anything; never pretended to be anyone I wasn’t. My single moment of integrity, someone had said. I grinned, remembering. It had probably been Wilson, my colleague, as hard-bitten as myself. I’d made sure of that.

 

My brow wrinkled a little, remembering Wilson’s voice over the phone the previous night. The elderly Asian man’s voice was habitually serious, but he had betrayed something like concern in his quiet tone; as though the project we were working on completing wasn’t going exactly to plan.

 

Which was ridiculous, I decided, sliding my coat back on – the rain had brought a chill to the air – and peering fruitlessly through the mild fog for my cab. We had promised our buyer a certain number of hard-to-acquire machinery parts, by a certain date. Those parts, which Wilson had mentioned were probably to add a little something to the land mines our buyer favoured, had been acquired, and were sitting, packed, in our warehouse, ready for shipping. All we needed was a time and date, and the deal was done. Wilson would certainly have obtained those particulars by the time I reached the office, I was quite sure.

 

The cab pulled up finally, and I slipped inside, showing my mild displeasure at having had to wait. The man couldn’t get away fast enough after that, depositing me outside my building in record time, and muttering a fare a little lower than that indicated by the meter. I rewarded his loyalty, then watched as he drove off; he wiped a hand across his brow, as though he’d escaped some terrible fate. I couldn’t help smirking, turning back, heading for the foyer. Missing the door completely.

 

I knew some guys who had a thing for blondes. I knew some guys who were so crazy about them, that they’d follow one right down the street and back again. I knew a couple who’d followed a blonde across the country, and out of it, too. To them, a blonde wasn’t some girl with light-coloured hair; she was a creature completely distinct from all other women. I’d never even noticed a blonde before.

 

Of course, this blonde had her arm wrapped around the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.

 

She had the kind of long, dark hair that was almost black, but not quite – and the kind of blue eyes which were blue, blue, blue and nothing else at all. She was tall, nearly as tall as I, and a lot taller than the girl she was with.

 

They were laughing over something, swapping some kind of joke or banter, I could tell. Their heads were close to one another, and – she was murmuring something, that was sending the blonde into peals of laughter. She didn’t laugh, or not exactly. She’d smile, then her mouth would open a little, and I’d see her shoulders shake – just slightly. I wondered what would make her laugh, really laugh out loud. At that moment I wanted to know it more than anything else in the world.

 

I found myself standing against the wall of my building, staring as the blonde threw her arms around the woman of my dreams, gave her a hug and a wave, and stepped into the cab queue. I haven’t a clue what she did after that, whether she got a cab, or gave up and caught the bus, or hijacked a private vehicle instead. My eyes were on another woman completely; the one who walked right by me, and through the door to my building.

 

 

**Chapter Two**

 

Wilson and I shared the building with a number of other import-export businesses; we had selected the very top floor of the building to situate our offices to provide the maximum inconvenience to any busybodies, and of course in order to take advantage of the views. From my desk I could see the harbour, the gardens, and the road leading to our warehouse by the docks.

 

I had considered those two advantages enough reason to select a high-level office; however, as I stepped into the lift a moment before the doors closed I realised that I would spend more time inside it than anyone else – and when that lift was also occupied by the dark-haired woman my eyes were following, that was a greater advantage than any other.

 

She was still smiling to herself, probably remembering whatever joke she and her friend had been swapping outside the building. There were a few drops of rain on her hair, and she lifted a hand to push back a lock from her face.

 

“Which floor did you want to stop at?” I asked quickly, my hand hesitating over the control panel.

 

An eyebrow rose. “I’ve already pressed the button.”

 

“Right.” The lift was moving; the implication was obvious. “There’s something wrong with the controls, though; generally you have to press it at least twice.”

 

“Oh you do, do you?” the woman repeated, her voice amused. “Funny, because you haven’t even selected your own floor, yet.”

 

“I don’t want to confuse the machine,” I assured her. “One floor at a time is pretty much all it can manage.” I lowered my voice. “We really only keep it on from pity.”

 

The lift lurched; the woman shook her head slightly, as the corner of her mouth turned upwards. “That’s very big of you.”

 

“Well, we have an equal opportunity policy –“ I began, but the lift lurched again and stopped. “Maybe I’ve gone too far.”

 

The overhead light flickered; the lift lurched again, but stopped almost immediately. I felt in my pocket for my phone.

 

“Hmm – I think you owe someone an apology,” the woman said, turning to me with a wry look on her face. “I do have somewhere I need to be, you know.”

 

I flicked my phone open and alerted the building manager to the problem; then laid a hand gently on the far wall of the lift. “I offer my most, humble, humble, apologies, o lift, for my disparaging comments. They were not directed at you at all – no, they were a feeble attempt to start a conversation with the beautiful woman with whom I happened to share your sumptuous space. I –“

 

“It’s not working,” the woman said dryly. “Perhaps the lift is jealous.”

 

I caught her eye, and her small smile became a grin. Then I extended a hand. “Andre Belligio.”

 

“Xaris Jones.”

 

I retrieved my hand, and rubbed it surreptitiously; she had exerted a formidable pressure.

 

“I think you need to put a little more effort into this apology,” she said, nodding at the wall.

 

I offered her a grin, then got onto my knees and extended my arms. “O lift, hear my petition! I –“

 

At that moment the doors slid open, and the half dozen people standing impatiently about the entrance stared in, entranced.

 

“Thanks,” the woman called over her shoulder as I stumbled ignominiously to my feet.

 

But I heard her laugh and laugh as she walked all the way to the end of the corridor.

 

 

*****

 

“Exports on their way?”

 

I pushed through the door into my office and collapsed onto the low couch beside my desk. After climbing the several flights of stairs up to the highest floor, I was starting to question all the advantages of our high view.

 

“Headed to West Timor as we speak,” Wilson assented, in the steady tone that indicated satisfaction. “Did you manage to pick up the new order?”

 

“You must have given me the wrong address; no one was there,” I told him, removing my coat and shaking it a little pointedly. “I doubt that place has been used for anything at all in a number of years. Why would it? I’ve ascertained there’s nothing of any interest at all in the whole of Geirville.”

 

Wilson snorted. “Geirville? Well, that certainly isn’t where you were supposed to be. I’ll have to set up another appointment, then, and apologise for you breaking this one.”

 

I opened my mouth in protest, then shrugged. Occasionally taking the blame for Wilson’s mistakes made for a slightly easier partnership.

 

“How much did we make out of that deal, anyway?” I inquired – and gave a low whistle when Wilson named the sum. “Not bad.” I grinned, and moved over to the window, looking down onto the bustle of the street. Sometimes the noise of the city rose up; sometimes it seemed very far away. Right then I could hear nothing but the echo of Xaris’ laugh in my ears.

 

“Andre – if this one comes through, it will make everything we’ve made since look like pocket money,” Wilson said suddenly.

 

“If?” I repeated, and turned around. “We’ve had nothing but success since we set up business here, Wilson. And haven’t I spent enough time cultivating my relationship with Callum, and all his friends? This is what it’s all about!”

 

I knew my eyes were lit up, my whole face, like a fool, like an excited boy. I didn’t care – damn it, I was excited! Every challenge that had come my way had worked out exactly as I’d wanted, just as I’d planned. And every new challenge just made me wilder with excitement, just filled me with that reckless feeling of power and freedom. I loved a new challenge, loved it far more than the money it brought in, the lifestyle it supplied. But those smaller deals were nothing compared with the new project I’d set up.

 

I found my hands planted firmly against Wilson’s desk, my eyes connecting directly with his gaze. “Sure, this isn’t supplying a few parts here and there to whoever happens to stumble on our business. That – that was just something on which to cut our teeth! Now Callum trusts us, he’s going to be asking us for more and more business, supplying a whole variety of goods. Yeah, they’ll be hard to find, and harder to store – but that’s what makes it so profitable!”

 

Wilson uttered a slow laugh. “As though that’s what you care about.” He shook his head. “No, you’d throw the profit out the window if you saw something with an even greater risk –“

 

“As long as it had a greater return,” I pointed out, and threw back my head and laughed with him. “But nothing’s going to have a greater return than this. We’re in, man! Enjoy it!”

 

“I’ll enjoy it when I see the cash,” he remarked dryly, then got up. “In the meantime, I have to set up another appointment – don’t mess it up, next time.”

 

I shook my head, but his remark couldn’t make the least dent in my excitement.

 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then –“ I needed to get into my car and drive wildly, crazily. “Scribble that address correctly, this time!”

 

 

**Chapter Three**

 

I wondered why Callum had chosen such an busy place for our meeting.

 

Wilson had managed to set up another appointment, for the following day; and he’d emphasised the address so many times that I could mutter the details in my sleep. I knew the place, anyway. It was the foyer cafe of a boutique hotel, not too far from the city centre. There were a few exclusive stores on the lower floor, and a bustle of people trailing in and out of the foyer, and through the cafe.

 

I hesitated at the entrance of the hotel, adjusting the collar of my shirt, then stepped inside, turning my head slightly to locate Callum. The tall, heavy-set man was never hard to spot; his odd uneven features were a legacy of an early boxing career, while his almost drab clothing contrasted with his penchant for garish jewellery.

 

He was just seating himself, and muttering a few words to the waiter. I saw two of Callum’s men sipping at tea a few tables away, and grinned to myself. Then I lifted my head and strode over to the man, holding his gaze firmly, and giving him my most charming smile. He could not help but smile back, and take my outstretched hand. I seated myself just a moment before he himself, and settled back in my chair, running a smooth finger over the menu, and barking my order for a long black to the hovering waiter.

 

Only then did I look back at Callum, ensuring I held his gaze steadily once more. I noticed he was nervous. I hoped it was because of me. Callum held a certain kind of power, of course, but it was precarious; which is why he needed my help. Revolutions rarely held without the armoury to back them up.

 

The waiter came back with our orders, and it was not until we had both tasted our coffees that Callum looked back at me and spoke.

 

“Thanks for coming, Andre. After yesterday, I wondered –“ He broke off, taking a sip of his coffee deliberately.

 

“I am always cautious, Callum,” I assured him. “If I’m not comfortable with the security arrangements, well –“ And I took a gulp of my own drink. I liked to ensure all my mistakes worked to my own advantage – and, as usual, it worked. Callum sat a little straighter, and nodded.

 

“That’s what I thought,” he said, satisfied. “I knew that my faith in you was not misplaced.”

 

I had cultivated a closer relationship with Callum the previous summer when I had heard of certain changes likely to occur on some of our neighbouring isles. I had thought it might be profitable; and now that certain opposition members had been disposed of, it seemed likely to be profitable for a long period of time.

 

“I need to make quite clear what we need, and whether your business can supply these products to us, before we sign any kind of contract,” he began, adjusting his large golden watch. I found the glint of light on his jewelled rings quite distracting. “We require a large variety of items, some of which you may not have dealt with before.”

 

“So I have ascertained.”

 

Something odd was happening; as he relaxed, I felt myself grow more tense. I took another sip of my drink, and let my eyes wander briefly about the cafe. Something had taken my attention for a moment –

 

I felt my stomach tighten, and laid my coffee quickly down. While I had been checking the room, someone else altogether had caught my eye. She had just stepped from the row of shops, and had seated herself behind Callum’s men, placing a few bags on the seat opposite. I swallowed, watching her frown slightly over the menu, watching her bite on her lower lip.

 

“Andre?”

 

It felt as though Callum was speaking from a long way away. I looked back at him, and he saw immediately from my guarded expression that I felt we had been compromised.

 

“I’m wondering whether we can postpone this meeting,” I said slowly. “Perhaps another day to complete the arrangements?”

 

He nodded, so impressed at my instincts that not a trace of annoyance at the inconvenience showed. “I’ll hear from Wilson, then?”

 

I nodded, and left a few coins beside my mug, before heading for the door. I wanted to turn and look back; but Callum’s men were sitting right beside her. She had nothing to do with his; it was important that someone like her remain a stranger to Callum.

 

 

******

Wilson was more than exasperated that the second attempt at a meeting had fallen through; he was alarmed.

 

“Did you see who it was? Or was it one of Callum’s men? Or Callum himself?”

 

“I don’t know!” I repeated wearily. “Maybe it was nothing, and I was being over-cautious. But something didn’t feel right. You know my instincts –“

 

They had saved us both a good deal of trouble over the years, and so Wilson said no more. “Ask Callum to set up the next meeting under more secure circumstances,” I suggested. “Half of the city was wandering through the place at that time.”

 

Wilson muttered something indistinguishable.

 

“It wasn’t all loss, anyway. Callum trusts me, trusts my instincts. This is the foundation we want.” I was excited again. Whatever bits and pieces Callum wanted us to supply, we could provide; it wasn’t going to be a problem.

 

“If Callum loses his faith in you, you realise it could be very uncomfortable for us both,” Wilson said deliberately.

 

I shrugged. “He won’t.” I was tired of the conversation already. “Set things up with Rania, will you? Callum will be wanting some more sophisticated equipment - she’ll know where to find it.”

 

“There was something in the paper, about Timor – “ Wilson began, but I thrust a hand out. “That’s nothing to do with us, that’s finished with now.”

 

We had a new project, and all previous challenges faded before it. I didn’t care whether they’d used our equipment or thrown it into the sea. It was Callum’s deal that mattered now, making the contacts – and there would be a variety of them – storing the products, shipping them out. I narrowed my eyes, and began giving Wilson a list of the people we would need to contact. It would mean dinner meetings and late nights and long lunches hammering out just the right deal. This is what I excelled in; this is what I enjoyed, driving a hard bargain with people who lived to get their own way all the time.

 

Except for the first time I was wondering whether there would be a little time left over. Maybe for a lunch or for a dinner – that wasn’t to do with the deal at all.

 

I couldn’t help but remember Xaris, and the way she bit her lip, deciding over the menu at the cafe.

 

“Keep a lunch or two free,” I said finally. “Just in case – in case Callum calls again.”

 

 

**Chapter Four**

 

“Has she forgiven you yet?”

 

I looked over my left shoulder and saw Xaris just behind me. By some kind serendipity we had seen each another several times since that first meeting in the lift; nodding at one another as we passed in the street, or raising a hand if our car slid by the another on the road. Sydney was a large enough city; but by the number of times we had bumped into each other it felt more like a small town.

 

I picked up her reference immediately. “Well, initially she wouldn’t take me past ground level. With a few gifts, flowers and the like, I’m hoping to get past the third floor by Monday.”

 

Xaris snorted. “Either that or she’ll sue you for sexual harassment.” She moved ahead of me, but I lengthened my strides to keep up with her.

 

“It’s lunchtime, you know,” I began. Her right eyebrow rose in what I had already learned was her characteristic look of amused surprise. “Is that right?”

 

“Yes, traditionally people eat together at about this time of the day.”

 

“You live and learn.”

 

“In fact, if I’m not mistaken, that establishment has been set up for this very purpose,” I went on, indicating a cafe ahead of us.

 

She stopped so suddenly that the person behind crashed into her; she simply threw him a look, and he backed away, apologising.

 

“I don’t even know you, Andre –“ she began, using a warning tone.

 

“Exactly,” I said triumphantly. “We’ve got to have lunch together, then!”

 

She hesitated and then, for no apparent reason, capitulated. “All right – I’m hungry, and this place looks good enough. If we happen to have to share a table – well, so be it.”

 

I grinned and moved to take her arm, then reconsidered quickly. She led the way inside the cafe, choosing a quiet booth towards the back; and I followed meekly, watching as every eye in the place turned towards her. I stood a little straighter.

 

“I’m meeting Len – my friend, Helena – in a little less than an hour, so –“ she began, perusing the menu quickly, before slapping it flat on the table. “So, tell me your life story real fast.”

 

I tilted my head and tried to look serious. Sure, I never pretended to be someone I wasn’t; on the other hand, it wasn’t my usual practice to advertise my illegal activities.

 

“Well, when I was a boy, I wanted to be an artist,” I began.

 

Xaris sat up and took interest. “Really?”

 

“Yes – but we were so poor that I only had those cheap kind of textas to draw with. Still, I laboured on, until my parents died, and I had to go out into the world, and make my fortune. I tried to follow my dream, but it was too late – even to this day I can only draw using felt tip pens . . .”

 

Xaris’ lips twitched. “You lying bastard!”

 

“That was the short version,” I explained quickly. “The long one is far more interesting.”

 

She snorted again. “I bet.”

 

I got up to place our orders at the counter, and then settled back into my seat. “The truth isn’t so interesting. I grew up, started working in the import-export business, and have stayed in the area ever since . . .”

 

“So, you like it?”

 

“Yeah,” I told her thoughtfully. “Yeah, I do. I like the challenge, I like taking on a task which other people might reject, and doing a good job of it. I like the financial rewards, too . . .”

 

“I’ve heard it can be risky, though – that sometimes you might not be able to hand over exactly what you’ve promised.”

 

I looked at her directly. “I live for the risk, and the challenge – and whatever I promise, I’m able to deliver. Everything.”

 

She held my gaze, looking at me with a thoughtful, serious expression, despite my own smile. I opened my mouth to ask for her own story, but just then the waiter interrupted with our sandwiches.

 

There was suddenly a squeal of brakes, the loud sounding of a horn and then the dull thud of a crash. Almost before I’d realised what had happened, Xaris was at the door of the cafe; by the time I had got up to follow her, she was outside and by the side of the damaged vehicle.

 

“Andre!” she yelled, kneeling at the driver’s side. “Call emergency – then get over here!”

 

I hesitated a moment; I could already see that things didn’t look too good. There was smoke coming out of the bonnet of the car, and I could see that the driver’s neck hung at an odd angle. But Xaris was wrenching at the door, and so I hurriedly thrust my phone into the hands of the gaping waiter and ran over to her.

 

“I don’t think you’re supposed to move –“ I began, and then felt the heat rising up.

 

“It’s on fire, you idiot!” Xaris shouted, “and the crash has buckled the metal – help me pull!”

 

It was probably useless – the man looked dead to me. But I grabbed onto the door and we both pulled, kicking at the warped metal. It gave out a low groan and then opened with a lurch, throwing us both onto the ground.

 

Xaris leapt up in a second and reached over to release the man’s belt buckle, before wrapping her arms around him in order to lift him out.

 

“Get away!” I yelled finally, as the heat grew more fierce. I picked up the man in my own arms and tugged him out, just as the siren sounded. “Look – they’re here, anyway!”

 

I laid him out on the ground, as the paramedics jumped from their vehicle and ran over to us, pushing us back impatiently. I shook my head and looked down at myself, with an expression of distaste. There was a patch of blood on my sleeve, and my shoes were scuffed.

 

“He would have been toast, Andre,” Xaris told me, her eyes unreadable. I was pretty sure the man was dead anyway, but I said nothing, just walked back inside the cafe, rescuing my phone from the waiter.

 

“Is this what usually happens at lunch with you?” I asked finally, and was rewarded once again with the sound of her laugh.

 

 

**Chapter Five**

 

Wilson had left a brief, almost curt, message on my phone requesting me to meet him outside a certain restaurant on the outskirts of the city. I had never been there before; I had had to ask directions from three people before I located the exact spot. Wilson, waiting impatiently there, did not offer me the least greeting before heading towards the door; I murmured an amused “good evening!” before following him.

 

The door was set low into the wall; it was a rough green wooden door, and it swung stiffly on its hinges. I had expected to hear a buzz of laughter and conversation, over-loud sound and over-bright lights, compared with the dark quiet of the street; but only a dim light illuminated the entrance. I ducked my head, trailing Wilson reluctantly inside. It was only then I began to hear the music. The corridor opened up to a large room. There was a woman at a piano, in the far corner. She seemed almost to be playing to herself, but I’d followed her voice all the way inside.

 

“Andre!”

 

I’d almost gone past Wilson – he’d found a table set against the wall, and was sitting himself down, looking up at me with amused surprise. I muttered something and pulled out a chair, placing it carefully so that I could see her clearly.

 

It was one of those smoky, dimly-lit dives, complete with too many tables and overly low ceilings. Everyone seemed to be entirely distracted; it was fairly full, but the conversation was at only a low buzz. It was either a cover for some kind of gambling racket, or a very, very good restaurant. I hoped it was the latter.

 

Xaris finished the last few bars of the song I’d been lost in since I arrived. She took a long drink from a glass placed by the piano; then I saw her eyes dart quickly about the room. I remained still; I simply watched her. I didn’t see her face change; but then, she didn’t see mine alter, either.

 

A few chords followed; a couple of notes, a hand pressed slightly against white keys. Funny, that it could fill the room. She began to sing, after that. It was the kind of song you’d wait a long time to hear. Just that voice – that low, true voice – with a couple of chords, only to lead your ear to more of her.

 

Wilson had the sense to spend a long time perusing the menu; in fact, he must have ordered for both of us, because the food was set down before me by a waitress I never remembered speaking to. It was good; I could see why the place was quiet. I myself had no desire for any conversation.

 

Wilson had brought me there for a reason, however, and it wasn’t just an excuse to eat duck.

 

“So, what happened today?”

 

Another meeting had been cut short, this time with one of our contacts. I had expected to have had firm arrangements with all our contacts by now, but somehow almost half of our meetings had gone awry.

 

“I’m – not sure,” I told him truthfully. “There was something wrong about the set-up, I could feel it. I think it’s been compromised; but I can’t work out how.”

 

Then I looked at him directly, for the first time since we’d met earlier that evening.

 

“Only you and I know about this, right?”

 

Wilson’s face worked a little. He was deciding whether to get furiously angry and leave, or whether to answer the question. But he hadn’t finished his duck yet.

 

“That’s right,” he replied. “Only you and I.”

 

I shrugged, and went back to my steak. Xaris had started another song; her voice hung in the air, unaccompanied. I found that my hand was gripping the fork as though I were angry or mad. Taking a slow breath, I lifted another bite to my mouth. The food was entirely too good to waste.

 

“I think we proceed as though nothing is happening,” I said finally. “But we need to watch out. Everything could fall apart; everything. Our whole world.” I didn’t realise how much I was emphasising the words, until Wilson’s face alerted me. I coughed then, took another mouthful of excellent wine. “Have you noticed anything?”

 

“Nothing.”

 

I wondered at that, then shrugged again. I couldn’t expect Wilson to have the same kind of awareness I had, I supposed.

 

My eyes returned to Xaris’ face. So this is what she did; so this is who she was. I hadn’t even thought of it before, what she did, what kind of living supplied the elegant clothing and lifestyle. She sang, that was the answer. It was almost the answer to a different question, though. What else could she do, to drive me even more wild than I was? She could sing.

 

A few more songs, and she took her applause, and disappeared. I gave my own apologies at that point, and got up almost hastily. I felt Wilson’s eyes follow me from the room; but by the time I had reached the corridor, and found the door I wanted, I had forgotten all about Wilson.

 

I heard her voice – she was speaking to someone, and I knew it had to be her friend, the small blonde woman, who seemed always to be around. Well, some women had pets or children; this woman had a friend.

 

“Sometimes, when you watch someone – when you’re watching for something in particular, perhaps – other details become clear. You notice things that you weren’t otherwise looking for. You – somehow can’t help it. Maybe, when you’re watching your child at his sickbed, watching for some sign that a fever’s broken, listening for a sigh, for some signs that he’s waking – you’ll notice, for the very first time, an old scar that you’d never seen before. Or a dimple, or a curl of hair. In spite of yourself.”

 

“You mean unimportant things. Things that are unnecessary, right at that moment –“

 

An embarrassed laugh. “Either that, or –“

 

“Or?”

 

“- or they’re so important, so very important, because you weren’t looking for them after all.”

 

“Don’t look. Don’t, don’t, don’t look. Don’t.” That was when I first realised she was talking about me. I felt my stomach tighten with excitement; I laid a hand on the doorhandle, and knocked swiftly. Helena had obviously seen the way Xaris had been looking at me while she sang; and maybe she’d something in my eyes, too.

 

“Hello?”

 

I stepped in, and was rewarded with Xaris’ reaction at seeing me – a deep blush, which began from her throat and heated her whole face.

 

“An – Andre.” She cleared her throat and began again. “I don’t think you’ve met my dearest friend? This is Len – Helena – and this is Andre. He works in the Egan building. Has an odd relationship with his lift.”

 

I extended a hand to the blonde woman and she took it gingerly, watching me with some suspicion.

 

“I didn’t know you sang.”

 

“I didn’t know you ate here. It’s not a well known place.”

 

“It should be.”

 

Helena gave a short sigh, then got up. “I’ll see you back home tonight, then, Xaris.”

 

Xaris gave her a grin. “All right, then. I’ve got my key – don’t worry.”

 

She nodded to me, then left. I noticed then how small the room was, just a low table with a mirror, and a few boxes. Xaris’ music was piled up on one of the boxes; I flicked through it idly.

 

“You write your own?”

 

“Some.”

 

“Come out with me now?”

 

“Yes.”

 

I looked up then and grinned at her; she stared back at me then made for the door. I followed directly after her.

 

 

**Chapter Six**

 

I thought I knew Sydney pretty well, but I knew few of the places that Xaris showed me that night.

 

We had a drink at a strange little bar just up from Central station; a few well-dressed patrons mixed with some rowdy students and a couple of muttering vagrants, their possessions piled closely around them.

 

Then she dragged me through an odd series of alleyways, pointing out particular details of the houses and their inhabitants as we went, before ending up at a little pub beside a park, where a blues singer was entertaining a meagre crowd. She was good, too good for the audience, but nothing like Xaris.

 

Finally we took a drive along the beaches, stopping at a cliff lookout, where waves drummed at the rocks below. I could see by the way that she gripped the railing that she was like me – a cliff called her to fall, or fly.

 

“What you did the other day was good, you know,” she said suddenly. I was still watching the wind pull at her hair.

 

“Did the man live?”

 

“No – no, he was too badly injured,” she admitted, looking over the water. “But it was still – a good thing to do.”

 

“It would have made no difference to me, if I’d pulled him out or not,” I told her, moving back a lock of her hair from her face. I had to touch her, or die. “And it would have made no difference to him, either.”

 

“It made a difference to me,” she said in a low voice, but didn’t pursue the subject, just continued watching the way the moon lit a path across the sea, while I watched how the moon lit up her face to me.

 

When I dropped her home that evening it was late, and she slipped out of the car, not letting me come up.

 

It wasn’t until I got home that I realised she’d left her purse behind; I wondered for a moment whether she’d done so deliberately, so that I would have to find her again.

 

It was late morning the next day before I reached her apartment building, and found her door.

 

I knocked, but there was no answer; then I saw the door was ajar, so I pushed it slightly and looked in. It was a small room, simply furnished with a few chairs, a low couch and a small bookcase set beneath the window. A book lay on the coffee table, and I bent forward to examine the title.

 

“Oh!”

 

Xaris was staring at me with some astonishment from the frame of the bedroom doorway. The shirt she wore was torn, her pants worn bare at the knee, and she was rubbing her eyes. I realised I had probably woken her up. It was the first time I had ever seen her so casually dressed, with her hair loose, framing her face.

 

I straightened swiftly. “I – the door was open, and . . .”

 

She moved over to the doorway, grumbling. “Len always forgets to lock it, and the frame is warped – it doesn’t shut properly.” Then she looked at me again. “What are you doing here, by the way?”

 

“You forgot this, yesterday,” I explained quickly, producing her purse. She gave out an exclamation of relief.

 

“Thank you! You’ve saved me a great deal of trouble – I thought I’d have to cancel all my cards.” She moved towards me and almost before I had realised it the purse was fallen between us and instead I had Xaris in my arms.

 

She said nothing; only looked at me with something like a quizzical expression on her face. I had my arms around her; but her hands were pressed against my chest, ready to push me away in a second. I was trembling as though I held something fragile and I was afraid I might break it. She opened her mouth to speak but I couldn’t wait any longer and moved forward and kissed her.

 

There was a moment when I knew she hadn’t been expecting my kiss; she forgot to kiss me back and her hands tensed. Then they slid around my neck and she pressed closer and moved her mouth over my own and I was lost, lost.

 

We were standing in the middle of the room; and then, she was leaning back against the wall and I was pressing against the soft skin of her throat, following the torn collar of her shirt. I couldn’t help but bury my hands in her mass of dark hair, or trace the shape of her eyes, her face, with my fingertips. She moved her own hesitant hand through my cropped hair, touched her lips to the edge of my mouth, sighed suddenly as the tip of my tongue met her own. All the time her eyes wide open, looking at me with an expression unreadable.

 

The door slammed.

 

“Xaris!”

 

Helena’s horrified tones separated us at once. We sprang apart as though we had been caught in some vulgar, disreputable act.

 

“Len – I – “

 

I turned more slowly, nodding to the blonde woman. “Oh – good to see you again, Helena. I came to return Xaris’ purse . . .”

 

“Is that where it went, is it?” she retorted scornfully. She didn’t try to hide her disgust, standing in the centre of the room, her upper lip curled with contempt. “The oldest trick in the book. She worried about that all night, you know! I suppose you didn’t –“

 

“Len.”

 

The woman opened her mouth again, but Xaris simply gave her another look, and she stepped back.

 

“Thanks for the purse,” she said formally, and held out her hand.

 

I took it, and held it a moment. Then I went to the door and left, without looking back.

 

 

**Chapter Seven**

 

I cancelled all the appointments I had set up that day, however important; I drove my car back home and then, unable to keep still, I went out and walked hard.

 

I could not stop thinking about Xaris’ torn sleeping-shirt. It had been warm against her, for she had just come from her bed. All I could think about was going back there and bunching the shirt in my hand, completing the tear from collar to hem. I wanted to lay my hand flat against her skin, too; I hadn’t done that, just buried my fingers in her hair. I wanted to lie next to her and see those locks dark against pale sheets. Most of all I wanted to tear her shirt, and I began to wonder how soon I could return.

 

I needed to give her enough time to explain this stranger to her friend, I realised that. I probably had to wait until at least night. I could go again to the place with the green door, and wait for her then. She had sung last night not knowing I was there, for the most part; she could sing tonight and I would listen to the first note and the last.

 

The phone sounded its single tone in my pocket – meaning an urgent message from Wilson. I sat myself on one of the rocks overlooking the wharves, and listened to the brief message.

 

Then I went directly home and phoned him immediately.

 

“We’re going to lose everything. Everything. You stupid bastard. You –“

 

Oh hell oh hell oh hell.

 

They had cancelled on us, finally. All those contacts – every single one. Meeting after meeting had had to have been postponed, and they had given up. Not a single supplier remained.

 

“Callum will kill us. Do you understand? You’ve signed the contract with him, and you’ve taken his money. He expects results.”

 

“I’ll – I’ll talk to the suppliers –“ I croaked. Wilson’s voice was scornful.

 

“You’ve botched this up from the very start, practically from the moment we planned it. Talking about instincts – you paranoid fool! Cancelling appointment after appointment, changing meeting places, telling this contact one thing, that another. You ruined everything, right from that first day – when you were supposed to meet Callum – and your woman fucked up the address –“

 

I stopped breathing.

 

A moment later, I opened my mouth; I coughed, and then I spoke in a voice I myself couldn’t recognise.

 

“The address?”

 

“I saw her coming down from our office that morning in the lift. She must have passed on the wrong address to you – remember, you blamed me?”

 

The pain that stabbed somewhere about my chest at the point was so sharp I could barely hear Wilson. My muscles tensed; I closed my eyes, tried to breathe.

 

“I remember.”

 

I remembered that I went in to get the address, and the handwriting hadn’t looked familiar – I’d assumed Wilson had been in a hurry or something of the sort –

 

“I – I need to go.”

 

“We need to do something, now!”

 

I hung up.

 

The phone clicked; I found myself falling straight down from the couch to my knees on the floor. Somewhere, far away, I could hear strange, raspy breaths being taken, could see someone’s hands pulling at the fibres of the carpet, fingers like claws.

 

I hadn’t had a suspicion until then.

 

Now I was all suspicion. She had been there from the first. She had been there at every point at which I’d felt nervous, apprehensive, watched. Every time a deal had fallen through, she’d been there. And I hadn’t made any connections until now. There was no other conclusion to make, however – her purpose was either to ensure this deal never came through, or to bring me down, completely, absolutely. It seemed likely both those things would happen.

 

If I couldn’t supply what I had promised, Callum would either kill me, or at the very least put me out of business forever. It would be the end.

 

The pain in my chest had moved to my stomach, and the bile rose in my throat. I had just spent the day remembering her touch, the way she’d looked at me, all those chance meetings. But none of them had been chance, of course. She had set everything up, right from the beginning, so that I would be so distracted by her that I wouldn’t notice what she was doing.

 

And I hadn’t of course. I hadn’t noticed that meetings were changed, and no one could say who’d changed them; that security had been compromised, and no one could say why.

 

I didn’t know what made me sicker; the thought of the deal collapsing under me, or the knowledge that everything had been a mockery to Xaris. The irony of her friend’s accusation made me shake with furious humiliation. She had played me so well, so deftly. If Wilson hadn’t taken me to the restaurant the previous night, and seen my reaction to her, he would never have put two and two together. At what point would Xaris have let me fall, anyway? When she’d delivered me into Callum’s vengeful hands?

 

I was looking at my own hands, pale against the carpet. I pulled myself up and moved wearily over to the liquor cabinet. I wanted to get drunk.

 

After my third drink, I began to wonder who Xaris was working for.

 

She obviously wasn’t doing this for Callum, because he was going to lose out mightily by this turn of affairs. It didn’t seem the kind of behaviour consistent with either the police or ASIO, although I didn’t know much about their dealings; perhaps this was the way they worked, nowadays. And if it was something personal against me – well, if I’d ever come across her before, I would certainly have remembered.

 

I phoned Wilson back finally, and gave him a few curt requests before returning to my drinks. After that I decided I would be going to the Xaris’ restaurant that night as planned. But this time, things would be on my own terms.

 

 

**Chapter Eight**

 

She had acquiesced as easily that night as the evening previous; only minutes after her performance was over we were speeding back to my place.

 

Xaris’ room had been enticing in its simplicity; its lack had suggested possibility. My apartment, however, had the opposite quality of abundance – as though everything necessary was contained within. From the large windows set into the far walls, framing the harbour views, to the variety of alcoves, set with soft couches, comfortable armchairs, and low tables. Two glasses were laid out, ready; a single flower rested as though fallen across the near couch; it was as if I had thought of everything.

 

Xaris moved ahead of me into the room, entranced initially by the views, and then by the rest of the apartment. I hesitated in the doorway a moment, watching her. She suited the place; she fitted the room. It was done mostly in black and white, and the colour of her long red dress altered everything – leaving the impression that she was all that was needed to complete the place.

 

I wondered that she wasn’t more cautious, that she was so relaxed in my home, examining a picture, lifting the glass and sipping from it, holding it in a free hand while perusing the spines of the books in the glass-covered case. Finally she came back to me and sat decorously on the couch, while I took the seat to her right, in a black leather armchair. As she sat down, the side of her dress rucked up, revealing the curve of her thigh. The sight drove me half to wildness, half to anger. Was it by accident, or was everything about her designed?

 

I hadn’t touched the wine, but as Xaris lifted the drink again to her lips, I grabbed the spare glass and took a mouthful, swallowing it too quickly to taste. Then I dropped the goblet and knelt before her, my hand on the high split in her dress. Her eyes widened. I wanted, then, to take the dress in my hands; to pull the soft material asunder in a swift movement and tear it apart, from the thigh-revealing split to the neck. I felt my hand bunching the cloth; but before I could act she had bent her head and covered my mouth with her own.

 

Such a sweet kiss. Her lips were so soft I could barely breathe. For an age I knelt there, tasting a kiss so gentle it was almost chaste. I could feel her breath trembling against my cheek, and I wanted to believe that nothing existed beyond that moment.

 

She drew back, however, and for the first time that night I saw a shadow in her eyes. A shadow that spurred me on. My hand caressed her cheek, my lips pressing softly along the line of her jaw, to her throat, where I felt her pulse shudder under my touch.

 

“Xaris.”

 

In that second all I wanted was to hear my name, too, whether it be then, sighed, or later gasped, or even later, cried out loud –

 

“Xaris – that’s an unusual name.”

 

She almost reacted to that, except my mouth was an inch away from her breast, and she wanted it closer. She could feel my hot breath on her skin, and I couldn’t help but acquiesce and taste her, just for a moment.

 

“I’ve only heard it once before.”

 

She reacted to that.

 

I heard an odd sound in her throat, and I looked up, just as she lifted a hand to my shoulder. I regarded her steadily for a moment.

 

“There was a Xaris Jones – oh, a few years ago – who had quite an interesting reputation, over in the islands.”

 

“Is that right?”

 

She didn’t push me away; and I finally had no doubts – she didn’t want to, any more that I did. She had passed the test, then, and I knew I had it in me to win her over.

 

“You managed to set up quite a coup there, a few years ago. It didn’t last, of course, but while it did – bloody and violent are the terms, I think?”

 

My free hand grabbed the hem of her dress then, as I had imagined, and pulled it over her head, tossing it onto the carpet. Then I pushed her down against the couch. I was fully clothed, and she was naked before me. I lay heavy upon her; my buttons pressing hard into her bare chest, the buckle of my belt marking her lower belly.

 

“She is dead.”

 

Somehow it was I who found himself lying back on the couch. She tilted her head, her face expressionless, then grabbed the collar of my shirt and tore it in one swift movement. The buttons scattered, tapping against the floor like a early rain shower.

 

“And what she did must never happen again.”

 

She whipped my belt from me so fast that the end snapped against my stomach, and I jerked. Then she dropped it, and moved forward, resting her body over mine, leaning her left hand on my shoulder, staring directly into my eyes.

 

“It’s those bloody islands. First you went after them – and now Callum. But you’re not one of his rivals,” I said slowly, and she shook her head.

 

My brows contracted in a mixture of confusion and sudden awareness. “You’re just – guilty.”

 

She didn’t even bother to nod. I hated, then, that her body just inches away from mine was still sending me wild with excitement; I hated that she was probably trying just what I had tried, and more than that, I wanted her to.

 

I pulled her down to me, and we kissed with wild abandon – the kiss resembling nothing so much as a battle, and bearing no likeness to the gentleness with which this had all begun. Her grip on my shoulders was so tight I could feel her nails, and my hand was so firm about her neck that I could feel her muscles contracting.

 

I don’t know, then, whether I pushed her away finally or whether it was she who tore herself from me. But I was still shuddering with a mixture of fury and desire when the door slammed; and when I looked around the room, I missed the colour red.

 

 

**Chapter Nine**

 

“Get rid of her.”

 

I had hated to do it, but I’d had to – I’d told Wilson everything. I believed I could still come through with this deal, and I needed him to trust me to do it. He sat behind the desk in our office now, while I stood, and paced the floor.

 

“She’s got us into this mess, and she knows enough to end it all. Get rid of her.”

 

“I don’t do that,” I said quietly.

 

“Then find someone who does.” His eyes narrowed, and then he hit me, hard on the chest. “Don’t tell me you still want her, after this!”

 

Of course I did. “She will end up being very useful to us,” I told him. “And even more useful to Callum. Ten years ago –“

 

“I bloody know what happened ten years ago – I was the one who found out for you!” Wilson shouted, banging his hands on the desk. “She did what Callum is planning to do, and she failed! What use is that to us?”

 

“If we bring her on board, she could sweeten this deal – by an enormous amount,” I told him, resorting to my most basic ploy. “And not just for this project, but in the future, too. You’ve seen how clever she is.”

 

“I can see that it would make no difference whether she had a brain in her head or not.” Wilson shook his head. “You say you can do this, but I don’t think so.”

 

“I can bring her on board,” I told him stubbornly. “It won’t take much to persuade her.”

 

“And I don’t believe you.”

 

I let out an exasperated sigh, and kicked at the half-open door. “Then we’re at a stalemate, aren’t we?”

 

The door slammed loudly; suddenly it seemed very quiet in the office.

 

“I’m giving you an ultimatum, Andre,” Wilson said calmly. “Either you meet Callum and I at the warehouse next week, with all the supplies ready – and the woman disposed of – or it’s all over. I will go to Callum, and tell him everything. Because I’m not dying for you, for your stupidity.”

 

“I can do this,” I repeated.

 

“And I’m hoping that you’ll see reason in a day or two.”

 

“I can do this.”

 

 

*****

 

I suppose she thought she’d never see me again after what had happened; that the deal would fall apart and I would disappear, and she could go back to being a singer, to being someone without any particular past.

 

But I was there at the restaurant listening to her, watching her grow more and more uneasy under my steady gaze. I had nearly had her, the other night. I could do it, I could bring her around to my way of thinking. I knew I could.

 

I’d spent the time renewing ties with my contacts – sweeting the deal with most of the profit I’d got from Callum – and altering all the important details.

 

I’d spent the rest of the time reading up about Xaris Jones.

 

It was no surprise that she’d managed to foil my plans so many times – after all, she’d spent many years doing deals with people in my business, and driving hard bargains at that. She knew how it all worked, how the products came in and how they left again, and what happened with them after they arrived at their destinations.

 

It excited me a little, reading about what she’d done. I had always been a middleman, had never cared about what happened once the deal had finished. But that was where she had been – at the end of the line. I supplied the goods, and she used them. I got power from others; she created her own power. We were very alike.

 

She couldn’t go back to what she was, I understood that. The past was the past – she wasn’t the same Xaris Jones who had quietly organised a coup in the islands and had taken power in the place for several months – just long enough to take control of the finances and run. There was no going back there, especially as Callum was planning on doing the very same thing.

 

But I knew she could be at home in the set-up I’d created. Far less risk, and nearly as much profit, with an enviable power base. And she’d be good at it, I knew. In fact, it perplexed me that she hadn’t considered something like this before.

 

I pushed to the back of my mind the look in her eyes when I’d used the word “guilt”.

 

I slipped out of the restaurant before she’d finished her last song, and went along the corridor to her room, to wait for her.

 

Someone was already waiting for her, however.

 

“Andre?”

 

Helena was sitting on one of the boxes, book in hand, looking as though she were still lost in whatever world she was reading about. Then her eyes focused, and she stared.

 

“What on earth are you doing here?”

 

“I’ve got an offer to lay on the table,” I replied, then wished I hadn’t; her response was to burst into laughter.

 

“Oh? And what can you offer Xaris that she’d be the least bit interested in?” Helena asked. “Power and riches? You’ll find she’s been there, done that.”

 

I shrugged. “Once you’ve been there, you can’t give it up.” I turned towards the door. “And why should she? What kind of life does she have, with that tiny apartment, the occasional work singing?”

 

That annoyed Helena, and she laid down her book. “She’s got peace of mind, Andre – not that I could expect you to understand that.”

 

“Peace of mind?” I laughed, facing her. “Isn’t she wanted by the police for all the things she’s done?” Then I remembered. “No – there was an amnesty, though, wasn’t there? Well, I can think of a few people who’d still be interested in knowing exactly where Xaris Jones is now.”

 

But Helena didn’t look frightened. “I bet you can,” she replied thoughtfully. “But do you think telling her that is going to make her love you?”

 

I raised an eyebrow, unconsciously copying the woman we spoke about. “I’m offering her a job. That’s all.”

 

“Right,” Helena replied sarcastically.

 

“And the answer’s no.”

 

We both swung around and stared – she was standing in the doorway, and I wondered how much she’d heard.

 

“You haven’t heard my offer, yet,” I said finally.

 

She sat down in her chair and began to dab at her make-up, avoiding my eyes.

 

“I don’t need to. Len has said it all – I don’t want to go back to that kind of life. Maybe you don’t see what happens to the people who are destroyed with the kinds of things you’re smuggling. I’ve seen it. It isn’t pretty.”

 

I stared at her dumbfounded. “That’s all? It isn’t – pretty? You know what you’ve given up! The kind of apartment I live in – that was your kind of home! The thrill of the challenge and the risk – you knew that!” I laid a hand on her shoulder. “It’s like the man in the car, Xaris – whatever we do, they’re going to die anyway.”

 

She moved so quickly that I found myself sprawled on the floor before I even realised it.

 

“Get out.” Her lip was curled in disgust. “There’s nothing here for you.”

 

 

**Chapter Ten**

 

We’d ended the lease; the last I saw of Wilson was of him slipping into the lift, carrying a cardboard box stacked with his possessions. I wasn’t long after him.

 

I’d managed to get all the supplies in time, though, by paying the right people enough money. I wasn’t going to have a cent by the time the deal came through; not any of Callum’s money, anyway. Although if he didn’t see his supplies, even the money I had stashed away would be lost, too – my apartment, everything in it. That would be the least of it, though, because I’d be a dead man if I didn’t come through for Callum.

 

Wilson had chosen the winning side, and I didn’t blame him. He’d gone to Callum, told him everything he knew, and was now safely installed in one of Callum’s offices.

 

All I had to do now was ensure that the supplies were in the warehouse on the Sunday evening, as promised. I had to meet them there, and I swore I’d meet them there with Xaris. No matter what philosophy she’d come to follow, no matter what stupid ideology her blonde friend had her believing, I knew that practical concerns would win out in the in. She would be there, with me. I knew it.

 

I’d stopped meeting her at the restaurant; instead I waited until Helena had left in the morning, and went up to her flat instead. I still couldn’t forget the torn shirt – she owed me mine, anyway. But when I went up there the door was locked, and when she answered my knock, she was already dressed.

 

“I haven’t changed my mind.”

 

“Look – I’m sorry.” I’d decided to change tactics, and by her surprised face, it seemed to be a good idea. “I didn’t mean what I said about the man in the car.”

 

She was leaning on the doorframe, her head resting on the half-opened door. This time she was wearing jeans and a blue t-shirt, but her feet were bare. She looked tired.

 

“Yeah, you did,” she answered slowly. “You know how I know that? Because it’s the sort of thing I would’ve said once, too. I used to think if I couldn’t hold it in my hand, or see it with my eyes, it didn’t exist.”

 

I knew we were alike.

 

“He’s going to kill me, you know.”

 

Xaris sighed. “Then you’d better get away from here, don’t you think?” She moved to shut the door, but I slid my foot in the gap.

 

“I don’t run.”

 

“Learn.” She gave my knee a swift kick and slammed the door.

 

“All you have to do is meet me there!” I called to her. “That’s it – such a small thing –“

 

She opened the door again, and grabbed my hand, pulling me inside the empty flat. “Sit down.”

 

I sat.

 

“So you’ve got everything Callum needs to wipe out half the island population – all ready to go. He just needs to pick up the goods, right? We meet him at your warehouse on Saturday night, give him the key, shake his hand and hope he sends another million dollars our way.”

 

“It wasn’t a million, and it’s Sunday night, but – yeah,” I admitted. “And look, if the next deal isn’t to your liking, well, that’s up to you. Just do this for me.”

 

Xaris was still walking around the room, while I sat still and watched her. She was so beautiful.

 

“I can do this for you,” she said slowly, and my heart leapt. I reached out a hand, and she took it, but before I could open my mouth to speak, she went on. “I can tell you that if you make this one step, it can change everything for you. Everything.”

 

I dropped her hand. “You – you’re telling me – you –“ My voice shook with anger. “You aren’t listening to me, Xaris! I’m not asking you to come with me – I’m telling you. Do this for me, or –“

 

She tilted her head. “Or you’ll get rid of me? Well, so be it.” She walked over to the door and opened it. “This is your chance to do something right, Andre.”

 

“I don’t care about doing something right!” I shouted, moving over to her so swiftly that she jerked back. “I care about surviving!”

 

She gave me a quick look. “So do I,” she said, and then pushed me out into the hallway. But when the door slammed behind me, I heard her say something else.

 

“I know you don’t. I know you don’t care.”

 

 

*****

 

So she wouldn’t be there, then.

 

It wouldn’t make any difference, except that Callum wouldn’t trust me, which would mean the end of the whole business. But I would have delivered on my promise, that was the main thing.

 

The supplies were going to the warehouse that night, and I would be there, and the items would be there, just as Callum had specified. So she wouldn’t be there. He’d never asked for her in the first place.

 

I paced around my apartment, watching as the sunset faded, watching as the small city lights began to flare. I might well have to start again, in some new business, after this, because trust was everything with these deals. But I could do that.

 

I caught a cab out to the warehouse. As usual, as soon as went out to the taxi-rank, it began to sprinkle; and as soon as the cab arrived, it began to pour. It was the kind of hard, driving rain which blew against the windows, making it impossible to see. Soon the cab slowed to a crawl. I couldn’t see anything outside, even though I knew I was in one of the major city streets.

 

The drumming rain drowned out all the noise, too. It felt as though everything else had washed away – as though the whole city was empty. There was just the warehouse, and the taxi, with me inside it. Nothing else, in the whole of the city. I was deserted.

 

“Stop here.”

 

The cab-driver obeyed, pulling over to the curb just as the rain came down harder. He must have assumed I asked him to stop because of the poor visibility; but then I thrust some notes in his hand, opened the door, and began to run.

 

I knew where I was – I’d been there so many, many times – but it all seemed strange and new to me that night. No one was around, all sheltering as they were from the rain. The traffic had slowed, and even the lights were dim. I was splashing through puddles, I was soaked to the skin. I had no thoughts in my head, I had nothing left to think or say or believe. I ran up the staircase and pushed open the warped strange door, and flung myself down, down on my knees, my head in her lap.

 

Inside, the sound of the rain was dulled; but everything still sounded so far, far away. I heard her cry of surprise, and felt a hand on my soaked hair, but I was shuddering so much, trembling so that I couldn’t lift my head, couldn’t speak.

 

I couldn’t move; she slid down from where she sat and moved into me instead. Her arms around me, warming me, her face pressed against mine, embracing me entirely. Her voice muffled by my hair. “Andre. Andre.” Oh, that was how I wanted to hear my name spoken by her.

 

Then – “you did it,” she whispered, and I finally looked up.

 

“I did it for you,” I told her. Something shifted behind her eyes, and she nodded a little, stroking my cheek softly with her thumb.

 

“That’s enough,” she murmured. “That – that’s more than enough.”

 

I think it stopped raining then; or at least it must have quieted, because although she whispered, I could hear her words fill the whole room, and everywhere; the room and everywhere and the whole world.


End file.
